On the Sidelines
by TheYellowKirby
Summary: A short, ONESHOT Shinobu introspect fiction about feelings of unrequited love. Why does it hurt so much when all you can do is sit back and watch love unfold?


On the Sidelines

Written by: Ciuline Ihmenjo

Love Hina does not belong to me. The characters in Love Hina do not belong to me. Ken Akimatsu (and whoever else has interests in it) owns Love Hina. Besides, even if you do try and sue me, I still have no money.

_( Pre Fiction ) _

Instead of putting up another chapter of Fallen Neo, I decided to write yet another Shinobu and Keitaro fiction. I have writer's block… so sue me. This time, they are not a couple. It's a lovely little Shinobu introspective fiction that has been sitting in my locked safe of fan fiction ideas. I just thought that I'd pull it out and see what becomes of it.

_Italicized words_ are thoughts. **Bold words** are emphasis. CAPS WORDS are shouting.

**o()o On the Sidelines o()o **

Laundry makes a lovely sound when flapping in the breeze. I can watch the sheets and shirts and pants fluttering in the breeze. My mind just slips away into a place where I can be alone. I think that everyone else has come to realize that, when I am folding laundry, I need to think. They pay me respects by holding off all crises until I emerge from my center of peace.

But just because I can try and stay in my little place of peace, I cannot ignore the things that pass by my little platform and laundry line. I get to watch as you return from the university. I get to watch while you both are hand in hand. I get to watch as she gives you a kiss before running off to her job. You travel the world and she waits for you. I wish I had that sort of patience. Every time I see you together, a vice closes over my heart and I hate that vice. Pain is not something that should be coupled with love. I'm tired of hurting. I'm tired of knowing that you and she are together when I want you for myself. For now, these feelings of unrequited love will have to stay with me.

I don't know why, but no one else can make my heart flutter like it does when I'm with you… when I'm in your proximity.

Then, you look up and say hello. I wave back usually. It's a little ritual in its own. But it started to lose its glamour when I realized that it was part of your personality. Even if it was someone else on that platform, you'd still look up and say hello. Even then, even knowing that, I still feel my cheeks flush. I look away and try and bury myself back into a wooden platform and various articles of clothing. I don't want you to see me blush. You'd just ask if I was feeling okay. You'd even do the laundry sometimes because you thought I was sick.

I've studied with you. I've cried in your arms. I cry when I'm alone because I'm tired of being alone. I got into the same college as you so I could chase my false dreams. They plague me because I have to see you each day. There are all these other people around, and I know that I don't have to be alone. They all like me. When I look at them, I know that he isn't you and that hurts me a lot. I don't know why. I just wish I was stronger and could let that all go. You are out of my reach. I wish that I could be at your level. I wish that I could figure out what it is that doesn't allow me to be happy with what I have. All that I know is that I chose this path for myself and, because of that, I am lonely. Maybe I'll find my solace one day.

For now, all I can do is stand back and watch you as you fall deeper in love with her. I had to watch as you knelt before her that winter day and fumble for a white box. Then you dropped it into a foot and a half of snow. Then everyone in apartment came out because two people on their hands and knees couldn't find it.

Everyone except me. I hugged my knees to my chest and balanced my head on the side of laundry pole. I think I made icicles. When everyone else cheered and you kissed, I cried.

The entire time I do laundry and I cook and I clean. In the end, all I can do is sit meekly back and watch.

Watching you hurts me too much.

I want to feel.

I want to know why this feeling threatens to take my body over.

I want to know what love feels like.

I want you to love me too.

_( Post Fiction ) _

I didn't do much with this. I just started to write this and it just kind of turned out this way. Took me about 30 minutes to write in order to try and work off a little writer's block. I think it worked. The only thing that I wish is that it was longer. If it was any longer, I think that it would lose much of what I'm trying to say.

_See you next update: Ciuline Ihmenjo_


End file.
